


Girl in Grey

by Queenofthebees



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Runaway Bride
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 17:46:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17084855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenofthebees/pseuds/Queenofthebees
Summary: And as though the universe had heard his thoughts, the bell rang, cutting through Jack Skellington’s ‘what’s this?’“What’s this indeed,” Jon muttered to himself, stretching more comfortably along the sofa and ignoring the bell.Until it rang again, followed by a load of desperate knocks and finally,“Jon?”He sat up instantly at the muffled voice and practically tripped over his slippers to get to the door, afraid that if he wasn’t quick enough, she would disappear as quickly as she had three years ago. Still, wrenching the door open he had been surprised to actually see Sansa Stark standing on his doorstep.She clutched a long grey coat around her body, her red hair covered by a matching grey hat. But it was her eyes, red-rimmed and wide that had captured his attention.





	Girl in Grey

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FedonCiadale](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FedonCiadale/gifts).



> For jonsa secret santa.  
> I know you're a fan of Sansa being the girl in grey so I did a modern au of it. Hope you like it :)

Christmas wasn’t Jon’s favourite holiday.

His mother had died when he was twelve, just a fortnight before Christmas. It had turned his whole world upside down, with him having to move to live with his father and half siblings. And while he got on fine with Rhaenys and Aegon, he always felt like his father just took him in for duty more than out of love. He had his visitations of course but Jon had never been able to feel particularly close to Rhaegar.

But a home was a home, he had figured, even if Rhaegar’s huge mansion never had felt like one to him. It had taken the magic out of Christmas to him, the whole commercialization that the Targaryens indulged in. He didn’t care about the huge number of presents he now got, he longed for the days when he and his mum would argue over which Christmas film to put on (and him insisting Die Hard was a Christmas movie, while Lyanna had asked how he had managed to see such a film, given the rating), and playfully stealing all the best Quality Street chocolates from each other.

Christmas had never been a great time for him until he had met Robb Stark at eighteen.

He had started using the excuse of exams to stay in the country, rather than go on the extravagant holidays that his father always booked, and instead he stayed at the Starks with Robb.

But as the Stark brood started to grow up and fall in love, he had started to feel as though he couldn’t really go anymore. Robb had offered for him to come to his new place for Christmas, but Jon didn’t really feel like being in a newly married couple’s house.  Not when the wounds of Val’s leaving were still open and raw.

So, here he was, alone on Christmas Eve with a twenty-four pack of lager and Netflix for company. It was sad and lonely and really, he wished that he could have some company but it was the way it was, what could he do really?

And as though the universe had heard his thoughts, the bell rang, cutting through Jack Skellington’s ‘what’s this?’

“What’s this indeed,” Jon muttered to himself, stretching more comfortably along the sofa and ignoring the bell.

Until it rang again, followed by a load of desperate knocks and finally,

“Jon?”

He sat up instantly at the muffled voice and practically tripped over his slippers to get to the door, afraid that if he wasn’t quick enough, she would disappear as quickly as she had three years ago. Still, wrenching the door open he had been surprised to actually see Sansa Stark standing on his doorstep.

She clutched a long grey coat around her body, her red hair covered by a matching grey hat. But it was her eyes, red-rimmed and wide that had captured his attention.

“Sansa,” he whispered.

Her lip trembled before she flung herself at him and Jon wrapped his arms around her and held her close, squeezing her as if he could force all the hurt from her with his embrace. He could feel her tears against his cheek as she nuzzled against him.

“I didn’t have anywhere else to go,” she mumbled.

“What happened?” he asked, setting her back down on the ground though he cannot bring himself to move his hands from her arms, scared that if he wasn’t touching her she would evaporate like some wonderfully, twisted vision.

“I left Harry,” she sobbed. “I couldn’t marry him after…after…” She started to tremble as she struggled to get the words out and Jon instantly pulled her close with a soft hush.

“Come inside, it is freezing,” he muttered, stepping aside to let her into the house.

“I couldn’t bring myself to go home. Not after I had that argument with my parents about Harry. I don’t want to hear Arya’s ‘I-told-you-so’ either. And well, going to Robb’s and watching him make out with Jeyne all night wasn’t something I could bring myself to do either. You were the only place I could go.”

“You’re more than welcome Sansa,” he replied with a small shrug. “You know that.”

Perhaps she didn’t, given the small, almost shy smile, she gave him in response. They had got along well enough together, even if he spent far more time with all the other Stark children than he did Sansa. She was always busy with her dancing and singing, she was training hard to be a big West-End star and it meant she was hardly ever home.

But from the time he had spent with her, he knew that she was a sweet, kind person who deserved happiness and definitely deserved the happily ever after that she had always dreamed about. Yet, he had heard the Starks muttering about Harry and he had to admit, he didn’t sound right for Sansa at all. It hadn’t been his place though, especially when Sansa’s relationship with her family was severely strained as it was when she insisted on moving in and getting engaged to Harry.

“I’ll make you some hot chocolate,” he said, gesturing vaguely towards the sofa. “Why don’t you hang your coat and hat up and then choose a film for us to watch, hmm?”

“Thank you, Jon,” she breathed in relief, already reaching to take off her hat.

He didn’t want to pressure her into talking about anything that she didn’t want to, so he merely offered a small smile as he handed her the mug of hot chocolate and took his seat in the armchair.

“This is so good,” she murmured with an appreciative hum. She grinned at him. “I remember you loved mum’s hot chocolates.”

“With the cinnamon and the gingerbread biscuit on top,” he replied with a fond smile at the memory. “Yeah, no coffee shop has ever been able to compare.”

“I’m sorry for just turning up like this,” she said suddenly, after the moments of amicable silence went on. She took a deep breath, her hands clutching the cup tighter and pressing it to her chest, as though it were a shield for her heart. The action broke Jon’s.

“It’s fine,” he insisted, his hands digging into the chair to stop himself launching himself towards her and wrapping her in his arms again. “As long as you’re okay Sansa, that’s all that matters.”

“He cheated,” she blurted before she was overcome with sobs once more. “I caught him.”

“Oh Sansa.”

He moved now, sitting next to her gently, as though approaching a timid cat. He put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her into his body, pressing a kiss to her forehead and hoping she knew that she could tell him more if she wanted to, that he would listen and try to help her as much as he could.

And when she eventually stopped crying, giving a nervous laugh at how she had broken down in tears and apologising for her appearance, he had shaken his head gently and told her she could cry all she wanted if it made her feel better. He had a dartboard in his room they could pin Harry’s picture too as well. Her laugh was the first genuine one he had heard and it made him smile.

“You’re going to be fine Sansa,” he promised, standing up and offering her his hand. “I’ll show you to your room and I’ll go get you something to wear for sleeping. There is a spare toothbrush in the cabinet above the sink in the bathroom.”

“Thanks,” she murmured with a shy smile and another nervous laugh, as though she really thought Jon would judge her for the fact she had turned and fled the house with nothing but her injured pride and broken heart.

“Don’t worry about it,” he insisted. “It will be nice to have some company tomorrow.”

***

He had always been an early bird but instead of heading through to the kitchen to make coffee like he usually did, he lay in bed, silently listening for any sound that Sansa was awake in the other room so that he didn’t disturb her.

But after thirty minutes trawling Facebook he was bored and severely needing his caffeine intake so he decided that he would just make his way as quietly as possible.

“Oh!”

Sansa turned at his outburst, offering an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I couldn’t sleep so I started making a list of things I need to do.”

“No, don’t worry about it,” Jon replied, scooting behind the chair she was sitting on to get to the kettle. “Not to sound like I’m nagging or anything. But I hope telling your family is top of that list.”

“Jon,” she sighed, warning clear in the sound.

“I know it isn’t my business. And I know you and Arya fight like cats and dogs. But they love you, all of them do. And they’ll want to know you’re safe. You can stay here as long as you want, so long as you phone them right now and tell them you’re here and why.”

She stared at him for a long moment before heaving a long, defeated sigh and fishing out her phone. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

He smiled as she stood and left the room, calling out after her. “I’ll have breakfast ready when you come back through.”

When she came back through, her eyes were red again and her cheeks wet with tears. Jon instantly turned and opened his arms to her.

“You okay?” he murmured into her hair. She nodded.

“Just crying over how silly I was.”

“Nah, it’s normal,” he assured her. “I’m a hypocrite really because I haven’t told anyone that Val and I broke up three weeks ago.”

“Oh Jon. I’m sorry to hear that.”

Jon shrugged, forcing a smile. “I’ll survive.”

Sansa gave a small smile back, squeezing his shoulder. “We both will.”

***

“You know, last year I still thought Christmas was generally just over-rated,” he commented suddenly.

A soft hum echoed around the room, an arm slinging around his waist as a cold nose nuzzled against his neck.

“But then, I got this knock at the door and there you were.”

Sansa snorted. “Hardly a romantic moment given why I was there.”

“Well no,” he conceded, his fingers unconsciously stroking up and down her bare arm and making her press herself closer to him. “But you made me love Christmas again. So, it worked out in the end huh?”

“I think so.” Sansa turned her head to give him a radiant smile before stretching up to give him a quick peck on the lips. “Merry Christmas!”


End file.
